


azure

by rmaowl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood, Children, Cutesy, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, Loving Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Memes, Nail Polish, Original Character(s), Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Trans Female Character, discovering good wholesome tags is my new most favorite thing, this is a little bit old but i forgot about posting it here whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmaowl/pseuds/rmaowl
Summary: “Anyways,” Charlotte chirps, suddenly very eager to move on, “what kind of day is it?”Cameron stifles a yawn, rolling his shoulders, stalling for a moment before he deflates. Hesitantly, he mumbles, “he, him, and his. Please.”Saying the words still sends a bolt of anxiety straight through his chest, still formulates a lump in his throat. It’s new and it’s scary, but Charlotte just gives an easy smile without a second’s hesitation. Without skipping a beat, she says, “you’re looking very handsome today.”The tension eases from Cameron’s body as he barks out a surprised laugh. “I have the worst bedhead and you know it, Charlie.”She grins, clearly satisfied, the gap between her front teeth on full display. Her outstretched hand tousles his curly mop of sandalwood hair, messing it up even further. ”Yeah.”





	azure

**Author's Note:**

> pidgance!! theyre a soft married couple with their two kiddos cam (cameron) and charlie (charlotte).
> 
> also psst if anyone falls in love with these kids just as much as i have i’ll probably do something more with them

Cameron whines in the back of his throat upon waking up, turning over and shoving his face into his soft baby blue pillow. Charlotte continues to shake his shoulder despite the protests, her chestnut ringlets bouncing all the while. Any further complaints from Cameron are incoherent, as they are being mumbled into a pillow and therefore are muffled. Charlotte snorts.

“Cam, you have to get up. It’s nearly noon.”

“It’s the weekend,” Cameron retorts.

“Yeah, yeah. However, the parental units don’t want you to—“ a loud, over exaggerated cough “—heck up your sleeping schedule.”

Cameron glares at Charlotte deeply, because she knows all too well what she’s doing.

It was once, okay? And it was months ago. He felt weird swearing in front of their parents.

“Anyways,” Charlotte chirps, suddenly very eager to move on, “what kind of day is it?”

Cameron stifles a yawn, rolling his shoulders, stalling for a moment before he deflates. Hesitantly, he mumbles, “he, him, and his. Please.”

Saying the words still sends a bolt of anxiety straight through his chest, still formulates a lump in his throat. It’s new and it’s scary, but Charlotte just gives an easy smile without a second’s hesitation. Without skipping a beat, she says, “you’re looking very handsome today.”

The tension eases from Cameron’s body as he barks out a surprised laugh. “I have the worst bedhead and you know it, Charlie.”

She grins, clearly satisfied, the gap between her front teeth on full display. Her outstretched hand tousles his curly mop of sandalwood hair, messing it up even further. ”Yeah.”

* * *

Lance’s arms are wrapped around Pidge’s shoulders as she sways gently, maneuvering her way around the kitchen at an easy pace while he trails behind her, pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck. It’s disgustingly domestic, which causes her lips to quirk. Years ago, she would never have seen herself here, married to Lance with beautiful twins of their very own. At first, she wasn’t sure that she was ready to settle down in such a drastic way. She knows now that she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Speaking of the twins, there are two pairs of feet thundering down the stairs. Charlotte turns the corner sharply, Cameron in tow, who seems to fear for their(?) own life.

“Morning, parental units,” Charlotte says breathlessly, and Katie grins.

“Good morning to you, too,” Katie chirps amiably, before turning and continuing to watch the pancakes with a fervor. They can’t burn like they did last time.

“Have you—“ a panting sound as Charlotte attempts to catch her breath once again “—have you seen this incredibly wonderful son that you have?“

“Have I?” Katie hums teasingly.

Internally, she’s thinking about grateful she is for all that Charlotte does. Though she’s only older by a few minutes, she acts like a true older sister. She looks after Cameron and understands him well. Ever since the 26th of October, she’s begun doing little things like this in the mornings to prevent any future confusion or hurt. Cameron’s still petrified of voicing these things, and it makes her heart ache. He’d barely been able to get the four words out, scratching at his hands in a self-destructive attempt to distract himself, starting and stopping incessantly. The sheer amount of anxiety in his small body is something that Pidge fears deeply. She just wants him to be okay.

Katie blinks, an unexplained wetness rolling down her cheeks as she does so. She suddenly realizes that Lance is holding her face in his hands. He’s counting backwards from ten in Spanish, tone soft and gentle.

As he reaches one,

_uno_

the acrid scent of burnt pancakes reaches her. She scrunches her nose in distaste. Lance laughs quietly and releases her, but there’s a hint of worry in his blue eyes.

Her own anxiety gets the best of her sometimes. Like now. Lance gets it, and he knows how to bring her back from it.

She gives a wobbly smile of appreciation.

* * *

Dad’s eyes had flashed in recognition, and then he had ushered them out of the kitchen.

They’re sitting in the living room now. Charlotte’s on the floor, painting her toenails a bright pink color, while Cameron is huddled in a ball on the couch. Something’s off with him.

“Want me to paint your nails, too?” She asks brightly, hoping to cheer him up.

“No,” he growls, tone as firm and bitter as he can mold it. His pale blue eyes have a silvery sheen to them, filled to the brim with unshed tears.

“Mom’s going to be okay,” Charlie reassures softly, eyebrows curving upward with concern.

“I know,” Cam says, subdued this time. His shoulders curve inwards, as if he’s trying to hide himself or make himself look smaller. His eyes continue to shine sadly. Charlie searches his face, and something clicks.

“It’s okay to have dysphoria over stupid little things that shouldn’t be gendered in the first place,” she says after a moment, and Cameron crumbles. Bingo. “It happens to me, too. What’s not okay is to let it control you.”

Cameron blinks once, twice,

_uno, dos,_

and begins to cry.

Charlie takes this as her cue to embrace him and allow herself to lighten the moment. “As a wise meme once said, your body is good. Dysphoria is just mean. That probably includes whatever you decide to do with your body, right? Like painting your nails.”

The sound she receives in response, half-hiccup and half-laugh, is more than enough for her.

She still can’t help the quiet thought that says she hates how alike Mom and Cam can be. Today’s one of their not-so-good days, which are often aligned.

A soft sigh escapes her lips.

With a deft hand, she begins to paint Cameron’s fingernails powder blue.


End file.
